


To you, my dear, and to us

by black_rosegold



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, Romantic Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, basically just 2k of them flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_rosegold/pseuds/black_rosegold
Summary: With New Year’s Eve comes celebrations and festivities, plus the added bonus of Richard making it up to Yorkshire for a day, it should have been a rather entertaining evening for Thomas.Still, not all parties are enjoyed as they should be. All Thomas finds himself wanting is a smoke and some peace and quiet.If only it weren’t for Richard and his bloody smile making him feel things.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61





	To you, my dear, and to us

**1929 (almost)**

The bustle of the evening’s celebrations allowed Thomas to slip out for a cigarette unnoticed for some much needed respite. Pleasant was not how he’d describe the December night, in fact it was frightfully cold, but it did very well to grant him his escape from the festivities for a smoke and some solitude.

Even if it meant freezing his arse off. 

A long drag of his cigarette eased the tension that had crept back into his weary shoulders. He was drained from the day of preparing for the celebrations above and below stairs not to mention the endless Christmas preparations that had gone on for months before.

Thomas exhaled, watching the smoke twist in the bitter air as he sat on the bench of the old wooden table. Exhaustion weighed heavier on him these days, a consequence of age perhaps. He wasn’t old yet, just a year older than Richard as he never failed to remind Thomas.

Maybe he’d feel even better if he didn’t stay up until the early hours of the morning writing letters to Buckingham Palace. Somehow he didn’t think so.

He’d come to trust that Richard did not begrudge him writing about his worries, amongst other sentiments. Somehow he made it better, a little easier to bear, as Thomas hoped he did for him.

Inside the servant’s hall, the New Year's celebrations were in full swing with the fire going and the wireless tittering away in the background. It was enjoyable enough, not to mention Richard who kept brushing past him every so often to squeeze his arm or make some witty remark to make him burst out laughing. His reaction to that comment about Carson’s eyebrows had certainly earned him a few odd looks.

The run up to the evening itself had been filled with the awful anticipation of waiting for his beau to arrive, with his staff each giving him the same knowing look. It was some sort of cross between excitement and what he had assumed was understanding. Everyone knew what the connection between him and Richard was, under some pretence, and Thomas had still been baffled that they all appeared to care. With an hour to go he’d been ready to burst with frustration. 

And it wasn’t as if Richard hadn’t visited in the year and a half since the Royals had come to stay. In fact, he’d looked in briefly for tea a few months previous before having to leg it back to London. 

Most of their meetings were just as fleeting, whether it was London, Yorkshire or somewhere in between. When they were at Downton, Richard would make passing conversation with any of the staff that had been there but he’d still not been reintroduced to everyone. Thomas supposed the rest of them had heard stories of such visits and had been eager to satisfy their own curiosities.

But once ‘the man of the hour’, as the staff had taken to calling Richard, made an appearance at the back door, Thomas’s anxiety had dissipated. They had shared a smile and a lingering handshake before Mrs Hughes had invited him in to inspect him for herself.

And Richard, effortlessly likeable Richard, was adored by everyone. Already he had that faultless first impression to work off of as a valuable ally in the revolt against the Royal staff and Thomas had a hard time admitting he was a little bit jealous.

It had been nearing midnight when their alcohol supplies had begun to dwindle. Molesley had been getting more insufferable by the minute and Thomas had been left less well-equipped to deal with his attempts to flirt with Phyllis. It had been hard to look away from the hilarious tragedy, if only to roll his eyes at Richard across the room who had been receiving a smothering from Mrs Hughes as Carson watched on with caution. 

By now, Thomas had succumbed to the night chill, making him regret not grabbing his overcoat on his way out. Already he could hear Richard fussing if he knew he was out here by himself. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to quell the shivering to no avail. 

Smoking should have distracted him from the cold but he’d been outside long enough for the little cigarette to lose its effect. The snowless winter nights were bleak and Thomas’s wounded hand ached to remind him of the fact, as if his stinging fingers and nose didn’t already.

Behind him a door opened and the sound of the celebrations burst out into the night for a moment, anchoring him to the feeling of his feet on the cobbles. It closed with a thud letting the courtyard fall quiet again.

“You haven’t got a coat.”

It was as if the man could sense his discomfort through brick walls. Thomas turned in his seat to face the owner of that Yorkshire accent, just able to make out his handsome face lit by the glow of the lamps.

Richard fiddled with an empty champagne glass between his fingers as he wandered over, a half empty wine bottle in his other hand. 

“You missed the dancing,” he said with a half-smile, infectious as ever as Thomas's features softened into a smile of their own.

“They’ll start again later. Just needed some fresh air.”

“I can see that,” Richard joked as Thomas took a drag of his half smoked cigarette.

He settled himself on the bench beside him, taking advantage of the dark to press up against his side. Amidst the smoke Thomas caught a whiff of champagne and pomade. Memories of late nights together and moments untroubled came to mind.

“Where d’you find that then?” Thomas asked, tilting his head towards the bottle that Richard had set down on the table behind them.

“You forget that I happen to know some rooms in this house very well,” he replied with a quirk of his eyebrow. Thomas rolled his eyes and did away with the thoughts that came with Richard's sordid implications. They’d done nothing of the sort in the wine cellar (though the same could not be said for the linen cupboard on the second floor).

Richard fumbled with the stolen bottle in the half darkness, managing to pour out the drink and handed the glass to Thomas. The butler part of him was irked by the fact it was the wrong glass for the wine but the more sensible side of him ignored it as he took the glass, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

The alcohol slipped down easily, its reliable warmth taking off the edge of the winter chill. He gave the glass back, letting his cold fingers brush against Richard’s own warm ones before he himself took a sip.

Even so, Thomas still found himself shuddering as the wind provided a stark reminder of the frigid weather.

“Come ‘ere.” Richard, well intentioned and a bit ridiculous, fumbled with his own thick overcoat, trying to wrap it around Thomas while still holding his glass.

“You’ll be cold,” Thomas cautioned as Richard succeeded in placing the coat across his shoulders after finally setting down his wine.

“I’ll live,” he said through already chattering teeth. Thomas rolled his eyes. A romantic he may be, but Richard could also be so predictable. At least to Thomas he was. 

Using his arm, he lifted up one side of the coat as an invitation for Richard to press up beside him and let him wrap the coat around him. It just about fit around both their shoulders, leaving their backs uncovered however, Thomas was grateful as an arm slipped around his exposed waist and Richard, radiating warmth from being inside, helped to stave off the chill. 

“Thankful for anything this year, love?” he mumbled, resting his head on Thomas’s shoulder. It would have been cheesy if not for the note of sarcasm in Richard’s voice leading Thomas to believe it couldn’t be a serious question. He was probably going somewhere with this so Thomas obliged and listed off a few trivial things.

“And?” Richard asked with feigned innocence. 

Honestly, this man. Thomas took the hint and glanced up at the sky wondering how he’d fallen for such a hopeless sap before giving him a deliberate sideways look.

“And you, Richard,” he sighed.

“Really?” the other man said, letting out a bark of laughter. It was rough and loud, unapologetic in his delight. 

“You’re squiffy,” Thomas said.

“Me? Only uh little.” There was a grin in Richard’s voice. “You think I’d lose my senses when I’m trying to make a good impression?” 

“I can’t fault you there. You certainly didn’t have to make much of an effort, especially when you’re-”

_Entirely wonderful. The love of my life._

Thomas tried to fathom the last year and a half without Richard. For him, love had always seemed such a fickle thing. With its elusive nature, it would toy with him, leading him over hill and dale. When he thought he’d finally grasped it, like sand it would slip through his fingers and he'd go chasing again after something he seemed destined never to find.

For a long time he wasn’t deterred in his pursuit, disheartened maybe. Of course, he’d gotten over his naivety once he’d learned not to be so hopeful, so wistful, yearning for things he thought he’d never have.

Then he’d found Richard and that had turned his entire perspective on its head.

Endlessly witty, dependable despite the distance, someone who didn’t shy away from Thomas’s jagged edges. He didn’t mind them either. And it was like a veil had fallen away and he needn’t have to hide. To Richard he wasn’t anything else but ‘Thomas’. That was all he’d ever wanted.

“Everyone loves you,” Thomas concluded but whether it was out of relief or acceptance he couldn’t tell. He was genuinely glad that everyone, to some extent, seemed to approve of Richard. It was even more surprising that nobody appeared to begrudge him his new found contentment. 

“Only because I make you happy,” Richard said, sitting up to look at him. “There’s a whole room of people in there who care about you.”

“That’s debatable.” Richard raised his eyebrows but didn’t dwell on his words. He already knew what Thomas was implying. He’d listened to all the stories he’d told him about his life so far and had tried his best to understand. He wouldn’t try to push him further and Thomas was grateful for that.

“Well I just wanted attention from the only person in the room that mattered.” The grin was back, both on Richard’s face and in his words. He knew how to smooth talk a man, that was for sure.

“Still, you seem to have earned the mark of approval from everyone. I applaud you, Mr Ellis, that’s no mean feat.” Thomas laughed to himself before he took another drag of his cigarette, the harsh taste muted by the alcohol on his tongue. 

“Can’t be helped. Especially when you’re someone as charming as m’self.” That earned Richard a good-natured nudge in the ribs.

Conceited arse, Thomas thought fondly.

He leant into him, pressing into the comforting warmth of his body. Just the feel of Richard beside him inspired such an unfamiliar sense of safety in him, solid and secure. They let the quiet hang between them, content for a while with each other’s company.

Periodically, they exchanged the wine glass between them, drinking until the bottle was empty. Richard murmured something about Mrs Hughes disapproving, and Thomas, flushed with alcohol, reached for his hand. Cold fingers intertwined but Thomas was warmed by the the familiarity of having Richard by his side.

“Guess what _I’m_ thankful for,” Richard mumbled. Thomas decided to humour him.

“What?”

“You.” Richard gave him a swift peck on the cheek as if he needed to prove it, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Although, if Thomas’s cheeks weren’t already red from the wintry air, they certainly were now. Sappy, romantic, call it what you would, it still made him blush like some lovesick idiot.

“You’re daft,” he muttered, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. 

A sudden surge of noise followed by a muffled chorus of cheers and greetings indicated the arrival of midnight and along with it, the new year. Eyes searched for each other in the half light. Thomas raised his cigarette and Richard the empty glass before tapping them against each other.

“We have to kiss or it’s bad luck,” Richard insisted, looking smug.

“That’s not true.” _That_ might have been a lie but it was a habit of Thomas’s to tease.

“But,” Richard said, that bloody grin making another appearance, “just in case.”

So of course Thomas kissed him, if only to wipe that smirk from his face. Maybe he was silly, as people used to call him, but this man gave him every reason to be. He tasted like champagne and quite suddenly the cold didn’t seem such a bother. 

After pulling away, Thomas shrugged off the overcoat and got up, putting out his cigarette under his foot. Richard groaned, questioning the disturbance. Thomas raised his eyebrows.

“Inside.” When Richard didn’t move he said, “It’s freezing, if you haven't noticed.” 

“I was preoccupied with other things.” Bloody flirt. It was like he couldn’t help running his mouth and in all honesty Thomas didn’t want him to stop. 

Still, Richard remained sat on the bench, pouting almost, until Thomas reached out a hand and hauled him to his feet. Even then, Richard tried to wrap Thomas up in his coat but settled for an arm through his own.

As they ambled back to the house, Richard hanging off Thomas’s arm, he murmured, “You still owe me a dance.”

“Needy,” Thomas said.

“I know.”

The dancing had started up again when they returned but only once everyone else had slipped away, Thomas offered out his hand to Richard for the second time that evening.

They danced well into the night, laughing into each other's shoulders if they stumbled, ignoring how the next day was inevitably creeping up on them and instead losing themselves in the hopeful melodies flowing from the radio. But for that short time, they were safe under the darkness and in each other’s company until they retired to bed. Richard’s guest room was left unused.

The next morning, when Albert brought in the abandoned bottle of wine from outside, Thomas glanced at Richard from his seat at the head of the table and met his eyes. 

It was like a little piece of them, evidence of a small imprint they’d left, tangible and real. That thought gave him an unexpected thrill.

Richard offered a hint of a smirk, enough for only Thomas to notice. That god forsaken smile would be the end of him, he was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> So i got the idea for this in the summer and only finished it today hehe. Anyway if u got through all of that I hope you enjoyed it (even if it was extremely cheesy in places) and that you have a better year this year.
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated :)


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